


We Are Trine

by LittleJai



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dom/sub, F/M, Kinky Wingrubs, M/M, Multi, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seeker Trines, Starscream just really likes things in his mouth okay, Sticky Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:43:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleJai/pseuds/LittleJai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of PWP drabbles. Focused on a A/B/O Trine relationship, with major D/s overtones. If this bothers you, I apologize for nothing. WARNING: GAY ROBOTS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Trine

**Author's Note:**

> My work isn't beta-read, so if I've made any major mistakes let me know, sweetsparks! Also... I'm sorry for the wingrub/oral fixation mess. It stemmed from me loving when my hair is brushed, and translating that sensation to rubbing a Seeker's wings. I'm so sorry.

It was a fact aboard the Nemesis that Starscream could be counted on to impose. Usually it was verbally, angry shrieking or snide comments whenever one of the officers spoke, a constant tirade of verbal abuse directed at whoever happened to be around to listen. Occasionally, though, things got a bit more physical. The Seeker would toss himself bodily in front of someone so that they had no choice but to pay attention to whatever it was he wanted. While this had, in the past, worked like a charm on anyone who didn't have it in them to strike the SIC out of the way, with the addition of other flight-capables things had gotten a bit interesting. Airachnid, when confronted with Starscream the first time, had laughed uproariously and then scuttled up, onto the ceiling, and past the fuming jet while completely ignoring him. Dreadwing had reacted a bit differently when the thinner member of his race had imposed on his walkway. Looking the irate flight-capable over, the larger build had lingered over Starscream's twitching wings and given the other a surprised and condescending glance. He had then flickered his own wings in a graceful circular pattern, turned on his pedes, and walked directly away from the face-off. To the surprise of all who had witnessed that interaction, the smaller Seeker's wings had drooped low and his helm had followed, leaving the little silver mech looking quite dejected and nowhere near as angry as they had assumed he would be. It was the beginning of a pattern. 

For days the Seeker followed the other pair, interjecting sharp commentary to almost everything they said, casually knocking their data-pads and styluses off of desks, and constantly pushing his way in front of them to block the path with his body. The Insecticon femme would laugh and make her way over or around the jet, while the larger mech would either turn and walk away entirely or walk forward until Starscream backed away, and then take the first available turn away from the blockade. To say that Starscream was becoming frustrated was a severe understatement. The schemer was fuming, taking his impotent rage out on anyone unfortunate enough to pass by, including fellow officers. After being rescued a few too many times from an irritable Breakdown, the SIC had been banned from the medical wing unless he specifically needed medical attention. The loss of Knock Out's company had only worsened the little jet's mood, making him fractious and aggressive the longer he was isolated. This unfortunately had the added effect of greatly amusing the other officers, and many of the higher-ranking 'Cons began taking pages from the flyers' data-pads, completely ignoring Starscream whenever possible. It was maddening. 

No one really noticed when their irritating Second grew more and more quiet. No one bothered. They had all grown accustomed to ignoring Starscream's words and interjections, so it wasn't all that different when they just stopped coming altogether. The only ones who seemed to notice were the other aerials, who suddenly turned their full attention to the third of their kind. That, of course, did not go as unnoticed. All of a sudden, every Decepticon aboard was watching Airachnid as she watched Starscream with a series of unusual expressions, ranging from soft concern to open longing. Their optics were trained on Dreadwing as he followed his counterpart through the hallways, worried twitches of the wings and twists of the servos giving away his reasons clearly. And suddenly, quickly, every optic in the Nemesis was on Starscream. The usually irritable, talkative silver SIC was completely changed, moving quietly through the halls, performing menial tasks with no complaint or even commentary. His helm was constantly lowered, his wings drooped low, and he would not make optic-to-optic contact with any bot aboard, even Lord Megatron himself. He did not snap, snark or otherwise annoy any of the officers, did not speak to the Vehicon troopers as they passed, and above all he avoided being in the way. Whenever anyone, including the other two Seekers, would head down the same hall the small schemer would either take an alternate route or shrink towards the wall, slinking by quietly. Overall, the whole situation was confusing and disconcerting to an extreme. And it was obvious that those of his frame type were worried over the unusual behavior. 

It was after a good five days of Starscream slinking around, speaking only in quiet agreements and mumbled apologies, that the unthinkable happened. As the Second was slipping from the energon refectory early one morning, he found his path blocked. At the sharp gasp he gave, every helm in the room turned towards him to observe. And there was certainly plenty there to be seen; Dreadwing stood in the doorway, bodily blocking the smaller Seeker and moving to block the path whenever Star tried to go around. The little Harrier backed off, or attempted to, but bumped straight into a feminine chassis and a tangle of legs, whirling to face Airachnid with a squeal of surprise. His wings began a frantic tattoo against his back, dipping and fluttering in complicated wing-language, but they were suddenly and sharply stopped. Dreadwing's massive servo was on one of the red-striped limbs, holding it still and running a large digit gently over the plating. Starscream shuddered and tried to twist away, only to bring his other wing in to Airachnid's reach. She gently grasped the appendage, running slimmer, sharper claws over it with a soft purr. A whine, high-pitched and needy, broke from the trapped mech's vocalizer, but was quickly cut off when he was lifted bodily between the two captors and carried off through the halls, headed for the SIC's more spacious quarters. As the trio left, there were quiet snickers and hushed bets placed. Unfortunately for those gathered, none of their bets would end up being paid off; they had no idea what was actually going on behind the closed door.

The berth had already been arranged, pillows and soft blankets accumulated over the lonely vorns and appropriated from others who no longer needed them arranged in a careful nest. It was in to the center of this nest that the pair tossed Starscream, who twisted back around to give them an unnaturally hopeful, shy, pitiful look. There was an undertone to his gaze, familiar disappointment and loneliness, and two different faceplates softened at the sight. Airachnid was first, the spider clambering over to the side of the nest and tucking her long legs away delicately behind her. Dreadwing clambered over the raised side, settling himself behind Starscream contentedly, his massive servos going back to the thin wings before him and beginning to stroke and scratch. Star gave a loud keen that quickly melted in to a light, vibrating rumble of his engines, close to a purr. Long, spindly arms wound around to pet at silvery cheeks, and the Insecticon added her gentle cooing to the low noise, shushing the Second and murmuring gentle praise to him in a move completely uncharacteristic of her. But bots changed in the nest, they could all attest to that. The silver Harrier practically melted beneath the petting and cooing, surrendering himself completely to the attention and affection he felt permeating the room. He had needed this so very badly. He was constantly mistreated, beaten down, and insulted, and there was really only so much of that a mech could take before he needed to relax and let his processor drift. The promise of other flight-capable bots, others who understood the need for physical contact, had been too much to ignore for the poor weary Starscream. Therefore, he had begun attempting to court them as best he could, much to their amusement and chagrin. When it hadn't worked, the miserable Seeker had simply broken. He allowed himself to be overtaken by the weighty despair, sinking in to self-loathing easily as descending from an updraft. And yet, now here he was, being stroked and cooed over and- was Dreadwing actually chirring at him? Oh yes, that was nice. He could feel his grip on reality slipping, the edges of his vision starting to fritz, and red optics shuttered as he sunk into the haze of the nest. An aching heat was coiling deep in his abdomen, hovering pleasantly at the edges of his consciousness, and a primal need rose in whatever was left of his processor. 

It came as no shock to the other two, with their still semi-clear processors, when Starscream's purr was joined by the low whine of cooling fans, nor when he twisted around to be on his back with his stomach plating facing up. Dreadwing merely shifted his attentions from wings to the plating now before him, petting along sensitive plates and running his digits through seaming. His servos dipped lower, running along a hip joint, and the submissive pile of Seeker below him responded with a twitch of his hips and a pleading whimper. This gained a pleased purr from Airachnid, who cooed gently at the mech who now had his helm in her lap, telling him how perfect he was being and how much she adored him as she stroked and soothed anywhere she could reach. A look passed between the two dominating 'Cons, and they nodded, ready to progress. Dreadwing dipped down to run a thumb over pelvic armor, and laughed pleasantly when it retracted with a hasty 'snap'. Starscream wriggled and whined loudly, trying to get his partner to touch him, anywhere but Primus yes especially there- when it stopped. Dreadwing's servo rested just above the shimmering valve, and Starscream let out a muffled sob of frustration. The violet femme was quick to soothe him, petting and stroking and nuzzling him like he was a newspark in her arms, but it wasn't enough to stop the pleading whines or the tears that threatened to spill. The largest of the trine leaned down gently, his faceplates brushing against Starscream's helm and receiving his own gentle helm-rub for it, and whispered something in those concealed audials. 

“Do you want this?”

“Mm-hmm! Hnnnnnn...”

“You have to ask politely. You know better.”

“PLEASE! Pleasepleasepleaseplease 'Wing, please, please I need you to touch me, I need it...”

A few klicks passed with nothing but Starscream's loud, watery-sounding begging before Dreadwing relented. With a fond “Good mech”, he finally began thumbing the outer rim of Starscream's straining valve. There was already an abundance of lubricant gathered there, and he removed his probing digits momentarily to offer his femme a taste. She accepted it greedily, lapping and suckling at his fingers with a pleasant hum, the taste of her mate heavy on her glossa. But Starscream was beginning to cry again, begging tearily to be touched, and Dreadwing had to return his attentions to the needy valve below him. He probed deeper this time, letting the tiny opening iris out to adjust before slipping in another, and Starscream bucked and begged. Or tried to beg. The tiny submissive suddenly found his mouth being invaded by two slim fingers, even as the other servo cradled his helm and rubbed at his crest. She gently ordered him to suck, and he did, hungrily. It was almost right, almost there, the sensation of being filled by his dominant partners, but it wasn't quite enough and his hands began to curl and uncurl in frustration, even as his pedes kicked in a sweet imitation of a tantrum. Both doms laughed, Airachnid's free servo moving to rub Star's chassis while Dreadwing's began gently lifting and spreading the slim silver legs. They didn't need to shift position much, Dreadwing simply turning his submissive over and sliding down to kneel between the spread legs. His pelvic armor had already been freed, his spike pressurized, and he wasted no time while lining it up with the dripping valve before him. 

Starscream moaned happily around his Mistress' digits as he was filled, licking and sucking at them to show his pleasure with this arrangement, his wings beginning to flitter lazily. With a slow, steady motion, Dreadwing fully penetrated the tiny valve, and his wingmate let out a high trill in the back of his vocalizer, optics flickering hazily. Airachnid quietly leaned down to press a kiss to the silvery helm, nuzzling gently and removing her fingers from their place in her mate's mouth. Starscream let out a contented sigh and looked up at Dreadwing, who had begun a slow, steady rocking motion. 

“More?”

“Hmm... Perhaps.”

“Please, Master?”

The request was so soft-spoken, so polite and sincere, that it almost didn't sound like Starscream. But Dreadwing obliged, angling his thrusts so that he was hitting as many nodes as possible, filling his Submissive completely. This was met with a happy purr, which suddenly turned in to a choked, breathy moan as one of their thrusts hit Starscream's deepest node. The ceiling node, the most sensitive node in the valve itself, could do many things to a bot under the best of circumstances. But when a Seeker was in the nest, it became pure bliss. As the huge wingleader continued to rock his hips in to his partner, hitting the ceiling node perfectly with every motion, Starscream began to writhe and whine, meeting each pounding snap of the pelvic plating with an equally obscene grind. As their femme watched in open adoration, she took her now-free servo and began to gently run her digits along the seams of Starscream's chassis. Her own fans were whirling, sucking in air like a lifeline without the benefit of a release. Her other servo gently lifted Starscream from her lap, and she moved instead to kneel over him, helm between her powerful thighs. His optics lit up as her own pelvic plating slid smoothly aside, and he purred as she lowered herself daintily, supporting her weight on her extra limbs. She let out a hiss as thin lip components came in to contact with her valve rim, pressing gentle kisses to the outer plating. A slim glossa darted out to lap at her, and she purred, running her claws in to his chassis seams and probing at them lightly. Her patience was rewarded as the chassis gently split, revealing a delicate pulse of light, a strange magenta color. This was unusual, as most mechs' spark colors matched their plating in some way, but she shrugged it aside, too focused on the lips that were now thoroughly absorbed with her valve. She tried to focus, running the flat of a digit over what parts of Dreadwing's chassis she could reach, looking pleased with her work as his own amber spark was revealed to them. She retracted her own plating, revealing a pale violet gleam and looking her partner in the optics with a fond smile. 

On some silent signal the two sank down, their lips meeting roughly as they sank over their tiny mate. Starscream squealed, bucked, and then went rigid as overload took him, guided by the connecting of the three sparks and the pair of firm hands that were rubbing his wings. 

\-----------------------------gay robots----------------------------gay robots----------------------------------------

Joors had passed since the trio had disappeared in to their quarters, and everybot aboard the Nemesis from the lowest Vehicon to their Lord himself wanted to know: What had happened to Starscream? Even Soundwave would occasionally check the cameras in the halls, seeing if the SIC had emerged. Suddenly, a sensor went off, and the Communications officer sat up from his usual working slouch. 

“Motion detected: SIC corridor. Starscream, Dreadwing, Airachnid: en route. ETA: 2 breems.” 

The work on board the bridge ground to a halt as the crew waited with baited intakes. The doors to the room slid slowly open, and in strutted Starscream. The difference was noticeable immediately; the SIC practically glowed, wings held high, helm raised and a pleased grin on his features. As he moved across the bridge towards the shell-shocked form of his commander, he called out greetings to a few of the Vehicons and Eradicons at their posts. Finally reaching the throne, Starscream did something not normal for him: He bowed, helm low and wings tight against his backplates in a classic sign of Seeker subservience. 

“Second in Command Starscream, recovered and ready to serve... My Lord.”

No one knew why the other two aerials were smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> God bless me I am so very, very sorry for this... There will be more to come. I love the idea of this trio. If you give me good ideas I will try to write them, otherwise I cannot guarantee any more of this. Might do some age play at some point, but I'll warn you before hand which chapter it is.


End file.
